


The Truth

by futurevampiress



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Discussing insecurities, F/M, Insults, Swearing, Weight Issues, degrading thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futurevampiress/pseuds/futurevampiress
Summary: You’ve struggled with your weight for a long time. Overwhelmed negative emotions mixed with infuriating insults causes Bucky to take action.





	The Truth

You’ve always been good at gym. It was one of your best subjects because whatever you had to do was simple, and because the teacher loved you. No one hated you for it, though. They were just too busy laughing with their friends and disrupting the class to say anything about it. It annoyed you to no end.

But just because you’re good at gym doesn’t mean you like it all the time.

The beep test for example.

Those dreadful sounds of the horn on the stereo, and the monotonous voice of the man explaining how the test works. It’s a pain every time you do it, but since you chose to take gym for four years, you can’t blame anyone but yourself.

And it doesn’t help that every girl in your class is skinny, or is at least in  _some_  shape. There’s only about two other girls that are like you, but other than them, it’s 99% skinny, pretty girls. And the only reason you don’t like is because you’re jealous and envy their bodies. One girl has a remarkable metabolism; she mentioned that it’s actually a problem, but you would take that deal any day. Two of your friends are in your class: Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff. They’re both in better shape than you, but they love you to death anyway. They know about your insecurity, and never bring it up. Plus, they’re not afraid to give a beating to a person who even dares to look at you wrong.

You look away from everyone as you change into your uniformed gym clothes. Sometimes it’s a good thing that you all have to wear the same thing, because then you wouldn’t have to look at the girls that would just wear short shorts and bras during gym. Then again, wearing the same thing as everyone else means you’re going to compare yourself to them, whether you willfully do it or not. It’s the first thing you do when you look at someone: their body. How skinny their legs are, how toned their stomach is, how firm their arms are. All things you don’t have. You do have some muscle after being in the class for so long, but once the summer time comes around, eventually it all goes away.

You tie your hair up and head into the gym with Nat and Wanda. You all talk with each other as you wait for your teacher–Ms. Regan–to set everything up.

“God I hate this test,” Wanda sighs, hands on her hips.

“No kidding,” Nat agrees, flicking her hair from her face. “I can never get past level six.”

“At least you can get to level six,” you counter. “I can barely get to level 3.5.”

“The cold air in here doesn’t help either,” Wanda adds. “It really messes up your breathing.”

“Why doesn’t Ms. Regan open up the gym doors?” Nat asks.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “Maybe mixing hot and cold isn’t the best thing. That’s how tornadoes happen, y’know.”

“Well, I guarantee you that no tornadoes are gonna form in here,” Nat jokingly assures you.

“It still sucks,” you continue. “God, I wish this–fuck.”

The moment you look upstairs, you instantly frown. Wanda and Nat look up too, watching as the boy’s fitness class comes filing in. You roll your eyes when you see some of them have cut off their sleeves. You can easily pick out which ones are the “popular” guys, so to say. But to you, they’re just plain annoying and their voices are like hot pokers to your ears. Their presence is enough to make you roll your eyes.

Wanda sighs and shakes her head.

“Do they always have to be up there?” she ponders. “It’s very distracting to have them making all that noise with the weights and workout machines when we’re trying to focus.”

“They’re all like gym rats,” Nat comments. “Though it  _is_  a gym class.”

“And it has to be at the same time as ours,” you scoff. “The disrespect.”

Nat and Wanda smile at your annoyance. While it’s true that most of them deserve a punch to the face, some of them surprisingly do not.

Bucky Barnes is the ideal person for… anyone, really. His face and body and personality are perfect. He’s very protective over his best friend, Steve Rogers, who’s quite a scrawny kid, but he’s sweet as a cake pop. They’re both attractive in your eyes, which in turn gets you relentless teasing from Nat and Wanda. They’re not wrong, though. You prefer Bucky over Steve, but he’s a close second.

_What’re you being so judgmental? Look at yourself._

Over the years you’ve learned how to conceal the worst parts of your body with clothes. Specifically your stomach and love handles. Wearing bigger shirts that looks like they fit anyway, and wearing dresses that are tight at the bust but flow out at the bottom. There’ve been times where you weren’t successful and were self-conscious about it, desperately trying to hide yourself. Some of those times when you were with Wanda and Nat at the mall. You would go straight to the mall after school sometime, but Wanda and Nat would change out of their uniforms, but you would opt to stay in yours because you didn’t look too bad in it. No matter how many times they would nag you about it, you gently stood your ground and did what you wanted.

You smile down at the floor as Bucky and Steve walk in late, earning a small scolding from their teacher. You hear Steve faintly defending himself, but he’s too quiet over the yell of your own teacher.

“Alright, girls! Gather ‘round! Don’t pay attention to them! Look at me!”

Your class gathers in a circle around your teacher and listen to her instructions. You all know how it works. Listen for the beeps, and then run back and forth across the gym until the next one goes off. An easy enough thing to follow, but executing it? It’s like being slowly choked to death by the very thing keeping you alive. Cold air is a blessing, but not when you have to run in it.

Once Ms. Regan is finished explaining the beep test, you all line up at one end of the gym wall behind the pylons she set up, and wait for the recording to be played. The boys are being unusually loud upstairs today, and it makes you bite the inside of your cheek, and your heartbeat speed up uncomfortably. You’d rather not have a class of 23 boys have a clear view of you taking the most horrible test there is for gym, but there’s nothing you can do about it.

Nat and Wanda give you comforting glances on either side of you as you brace yourself for the test to begin. Having an unsteady heartbeat already is not a great start for you. Now you know you’re not gonna last long.

All is going well until you reach level two. You absolutely hate the fact that the test has half-levels, but even more so at the boys just blatantly watching you from above. Mr. Pepe seems to have left them for whatever reason, leaving them to their own devices. Some literally, their phones in their hands and blowing off the class. But the others… they’re standing against the railing, watching shamelessly as you try to get through this test. It’s not an easy thing to do. Bucky, on the other hand, is spotting Steve while he helps him do his bench presses.

You’re grateful that the stereo is so loud, because it drowns out the snippy and hurtful comments some of the boys are making.

“Look at that chunky girl go. She won’t reach level three.”

“I’m surprised she reached level two.”

“A fatass like her shouldn’t even make it past level 1.5.”

By now you’re trying to look straight ahead and not cry. The mean comments reach Wanda’s and Nat’s ears, and they send death glares in the boys’ direction. They just make kissy faces and wink at them. Nat and Wanda give them the finger. It goes unnoticed by Ms. Regan.

Your heart is on fire and your throat stings from the less-than-pleasant air being forced down your lungs. Your legs scream at you to stop, but you have to keep going to beat your level. You have to reach at least level four. 3.5 at the most. Then you’ll stop. You’ll breathlessly walk over to the sidelines and wander into the hallway to get a drink. It’ll be fine. You know you’ll never get to level seven like some of the girls in your class. Your body just isn’t built like theirs. A room full of ectomorphs and mesomorphs, and you being one of three endomorphs… it plummets your self-esteem. You can’t help but think about it because that’s all you see. Just pretty, skinny girls that you desperately wish to be like. Maybe you could if you tried, but first you must deal with the stress of school, and the people in it.

You can feel the blisters beginning to form on the back of your ankle.

_Fuck the summer heat. Fuck all of this._

You can still hear the hushed whispers of endless insults coming from the boys upstairs. They relentlessly play again and again in your mind, refusing to go away. You’re doing your best to keep your composure and just get as far as you can into the beep test. But your body is failing you.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Holy shit. Holyyy shit.”

“Come on, _______. You can do it.”

You appreciate Wanda’s incredibly kind and encouraging nature, but it’s just not doing you any good at the moment. Sweat rolls down your forehead and you angrily wipe it away. You swallow dryly, the air giving you nothing but moisture-less disappointment.

You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as you push yourself to go faster. At this rate, you’re definitely not going to last. Your body always betrays you at the worst times.

Looks like you’re good at predicting yourself.

As the test approaches level 4, you finally give out. Your throat hurts too much to breathe, and your legs are too shaky to continue. You slow down as you hold your chest and walk off to the side of the gym. You regret giving a quick glance upstairs, because the boys are smirking at you and making crying faces. You mouth “fuck off” as you walk outside and get a drink from the fountain. You catch your breath after and go into the washroom to wash your face.

As you look into the mirror, a mix of sweat and water dripping down your cheeks, you want to cry. Too many emotions are running through you, overwhelming you exponentially. The insults, the way you look at yourself, the way everyone else looks… it’s just getting to be too much. You’ve been able to handle your feelings about this issue for quite some time, but now that several boys have commented on it, you can’t handle it anymore. No one’s ever said that about you before; it was your first time experiencing it.

And they’re right.

You hate the way your thighs touch when you walk. You hate how your stomach sticks out in your uniform. You hate how big your arms are in a T-shirt. You hate how everything jiggles when you run. You hate how you’re hating yourself in the bathroom while the rest of your class completes the beep test. It’s incredibly embarrassing enough, but when there’s spectators thrown into the mix, everything becomes much worse.

You know you can’t start crying now. Otherwise when you go back into the gym your eyes will be red and everyone will be able to hear how raspy your voice is. You clench your fists on the counter as you suck in a large breath of air and close your eyes.

“You’re okay. You can do it. You can cry when you go home. Just. Not. Now.”

You take your hair out and redo your ponytail before wiping your face and going back outside. You can see a handful of your classmates still going, Nat and Wanda included. Your locker is all the way down the hall, but it’s worth the walk to calm down a bit. You peer into other classes absentmindedly, watching students paying attention to their teacher, or giving you a quick glance because someone is passing by their class. You stare into your locker as you open it, not really sure what to do. You glaze your eyes over the many pictures decorating the door, before reaching for your perfume in your bag and spraying some. It makes you feel a little bit better because you smell better. You smile and put it back, then slam the door shut and begin your trek back to the gym.

On your way back, you see some boys run down from upstairs and go into the bathroom, one of them being Bucky. You clear your throat from looking at his arms, giving him a small smile when he shoots one your way. You quickly enter the gym and sit down on the bleachers with a few other girls that have lucked out on the test. Wanda and Nat are still running.

“Entering level 6.5.”

Nat said she could never get past level 6, and she’s pushing herself to keep going. You can see the pain on her face, but she’s keeping her pace pretty well. You cheer your friends on, clapping your hands and tapping your foot on the floor. When level 7 approaches, Nat can’t take it anymore and slows down to a walk, and holds her side as she makes her way over to you.

“You okay?” you ask as she sits down.

“Fine,” she breathes out. “Can you. Can you get me my water bottle, please?”

“Yeah, sure,” you say, standing up. “Where is it?”

“Change room.”

“Got it.”

You go to the change room to retrieve your friend’s water bottle, and when you come back outside, you’re met with three boys messing around in the hallway, right by the gym doors. You grip the handle of Nat’s bottle and keep walking. When you’re about to go through the doors, they decide to block your way.

“Excuse me,” you say quietly.

“You wouldn’t even fit through the door,” one of them snickers.

“Oh, fuck off, Ryan,” you hiss, narrowing your eyes at him. They all chorus “oooh” mockingly and laugh at you.

“Honestly, _______,” another one–Jake–speaks up. “You know you’ll never get past level four, right?”

“One of your hot friends is still going,” Jhonny joins in. “Wendy? Winnie?”

“Wanda,” you say through grit teeth. “If you’re going to insult me, at least be respectful enough to remember my friend’s names.”

“Pfft, respect?” Ryan quips. “Who would respect a lump like you?”

“Respect?” Jake adds. “Forget respect. Who would even look her way twice?”

“No one, that’s who,” Jhonny says.

Forget tears. You want to punch them in the face. You’re two seconds away from just pushing past them when a voice speaks up from behind you.

“Hey, why don’t you guys leave her alone, hm?”

_Bucky._

You turn around and see him standing there with an unimpressed look on his face, You could even say he looked offended. You look away from him and finally push past the three boys. They don’t stop you.

“Here you go,” you say to Nat as you sit down beside her again.

“What took you so long?” she asks, taking a gulp.

“Forgot which one was yours,” you lie.

“Really?” she says, turning her bottle to the side. “Because my name is plastered right here.”

“Alright, alright,” you grunt, leaning back against the wooden bleachers. You watch Wanda as she struggles to continue on. They’re at level 7.5, and you can tell she’s really pushing through it. More so than Nat. It’s just her and two other girls. You know Wanda isn’t really a competitive type, usually aiming for her own goals, but this time it seems a little different. She’s periodically glancing over to the other girls, and her brows are furrowed.

“She’s really going for it,” Nat comments as she watches her as well.

“No kidding,” you agree. “She’s never gotten to this level before.”

The both of you cheer Wanda on, no matter how uncomfortable she looks. You must be supportive for your friend. When it’s nearing the eighth level, Wanda seems to stumble and she yells out in pain. You and Nat are instantly at her side when she drops to the floor.

“What happened?” you ask.

“I think I rolled my ankle,” Wanda replies breathlessly.

“Let’s get you to the benches,” Nat says, helping Wanda to her feet. You go to Ms. Regan and ask for some ice. She hands you the storage room keys and you brace yourself as you go back outside the gym and to the right. The boys seem to have gone. Even Bucky. The room is directly across from their change room, and you can hear a few of them inside. Who wouldn’t? They’re yelling like maniacs. You want to do this quickly. You shove the door open and grab a plastic baggy, plop a few cubes in and lock the door.

“Look who’s back.”

_Motherfucker._

You duck your head down and avoid all eye-contact with them, completely focused on getting back into the gym.

“Hey, we’re talking to you, fatass,” Jhonny calls out.

You give him the middle finger as you keep walking towards the gym doors, securely swinging Ms. Regan’s keys in your hand. Ryan runs up to you and takes hold of the keys, but your grip is too strong for him to take them. You glare at him when he doesn’t let go.

“Let go,” you demand, tugging the keys your way.

“No,” he replies with attitude.

“Let. Go,” you say with more force.

To your surprise, he lets it go. You wrap it around your wrist and begin your way back. But they’re not done with you yet. They quickly encircle you, blocking you a mere few feet away from the doors. And they’re closed. Which means not a lot of your class is going to see what happens next.

“Will you please just stop?” you manage to say before they start their insults.

“Stop what?” Jake asks, licking his lips and crossing his arms. “Telling the truth? That no one will love you because of how big you are?”

“Which do you think is bigger?” Ryan questions. “Her stomach or thighs?”

“Pfft they’re both pretty big,” Jhonny laughs. “It’s hard to tell at times what’s under that shirt and those shorts.”

“Not like anyone would wanna know,” Jake snickers. “All cellulite and no muscle.”

“Don’t forget flab and stretch marks,” Ryan snorts.

“I like my stretch marks,” you whisper through glassy eyes.

They all erupt in laughter and you clench your fists as you struggle to keep the tears at bay.

“Awww look at her,” Jake fake whines in a baby voice. “She’s mad. Is the fat, worthless, waste of space gonna cry?”

“She already is, man!” Ryan quips. “Because she knows we’re right.”

“We’re right, aren’t we?” Jhonny asks, giving you a little shove. You maintain your balance and wipe away the tears running down your face. You’re more angry than anything, and you let that show instead of your unbearable self-loathing expression.

“Look at her. So pathetic.”

“Worthless.”

“Gross.”

“Ugly.”

“Repulsive.”

“Unsightly.”

By now they’ve taken turns pushing you around, until you’re successfully toppled to the floor, the ice you got for Wanda being thrown from your hand. You sniffle loudly and you grip Ms. Regan’s keys in your hand, the hard metal digging into your palm. All you want to do is yell and cry and be alone and punch them in the face. Your self-control is amazing at times, never telling your class off when they’re being dicks to a substitute teacher, and never hitting anyone when they deserve it. Getting in trouble is your number one fear during school. And you’ve never gone against anyone else physically. God is surely testing you.

“Hideous.”

“No one will ever love you.”

“You’re just a fat pig with no talent.”

You’re actually about to kick one of their legs when a resonating yell comes from a third-party voice. It all happens so quickly. At one point Ryan’s towering over you and laughing, and the next thing you know, he’s on the floor beside you with his face all bloody. You blink several times to understand what’s going on.

“Don’t ever talk about her like that again,” the voice growls, eyes dark and serious. When you look up, you see it’s Bucky. His chest is heaving and he looks pissed. You’ve never seen him look this way before.

“Jesus, man,” Jhonny says, going to Ryan’s side. “We were just–“

“No, you were not just ‘joking around’,” Bucky interrupts, mocking Jhonny’s pathetic little voice. “You think I can’t tell the difference between someone who’s poking fun at their friend and some jackasses putting someone down? Didn’t I tell you to fuck off the first time around?”

“Yeah, but–“

“But fucking nothing!” Bucky yells, making you flinch. “She’s here clearly getting ice for someone and you corner her like some wild animal and harass her over something that’s completely stupid and hurtful? Fuck outta here, you asshole. Or else I’ll do more than just break your nose.”

Jake and Jhonny help Ryan to his feet and to the bathroom, throwing glares Bucky’s way. As you watch the three scramble away, it’s getting hard to hold the  _real_  tears back.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is so soft and gentle that you wince when he puts his hand on your shoulder. You look away from him and bite your bottom lip hardly.

“I’m fine,” you lie through your teeth, your eyes burning and your throat closing up.

Bucky knows well enough that you’re definitely not fine. As you pull your shirt up over your face and clutch your chest, he pulls you into a hug, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He rubs your back soothingly, and keeps telling you over and over that what they said wasn’t true. But you keep shaking your head. Soon enough the small commotion that occurred has reached Ms. Regan’s attention, and she comes bursting through the gym doors, instantly seeing you on the floor with Bucky.

“What the hell’s going on here?” she asks.

“_______ needs to step outside for a while, Ms. Regan,” Bucky answers, since he knows you won’t be able to. “She’s feeling very vulnerable and doesn’t want to talk to anyone.”

You hold up her keys to Bucky’s chest and he takes them.

“I believe these are yours,” he says, holding them up. She comes over and takes them, then kneels down at your side.

“_______?” she calls out. “You all right?”

You truthfully shake your head no, then push yourself out of Bucky’s grasp and pull your shirt down to your nose so you can see where you’re going. You go outside and sit in the shaded grass, hugging your knees, wanting to scream.

The cool summer air hits you as you stumble out those doors and sit in the grass against the wall. You turn your face away from the glass doors and hug your knees as you let a sob escape you. You don’t want Bucky to see you so vulnerable like this, let alone your teacher. You pull your shirt over your head again and dig your fingernails into your arms. You just want to be alone for a while, but Bucky’s not about to let that happen.

He quietly opens the doors and looks down at you.

“_______?”

You don’t answer. You just shift your body the other way and ignore him. He sits down next to you and gazes upon the top of your head.

“Hey, don’t listen to them, all right?” he says. “They’re nothing but a bunch of assholes that have nothing better to do than–“

“Speak the truth?”

You pull down your shirt to reveal your eyes again and look at him. His expression softens when he sees how red and puffy they are. You can only squint at him then quickly look away again.

“They were not–“

“Don’t even try,” you interject, staring into the parking lot. “What they said was right. I am everything they called me. Worthless, pathetic, unsightly, rep–“

“Shut up, _______!”

He sounds angry. More angry than he was at Ryan for insulting you. You tense up under his gaze, not wanting to know what he has to say.

“Listen to me,” he says softly. “They’re just a bunch of assholes, do you understand me? Nothing they said about you is true. And don’t even think about denying it.” He holds up his hand to keep you from responding. “You know you’re a lot more than the lies they told you, right? You’re smart and have great friends. You care about people than most girls I see. You don’t cause trouble or act out. You’re pretty damn nice the last time I checked.”

“Acting like a stalker are we, Barnes?”

Though he can’t see your lips, he can tell you’re smiling by the crinkle of your eyes. He smiles sweetly at you and stretches his arms.

“I would never,” he replies. “I’m just very observant. And I’m just speaking the truth.”

You squint at him when he uses your words against you, but in a positive way. You soften your expression and wipe away your tears before pulling your shirt down from your mouth. You attempt a smile but it never reaches your eyes. You play with your fingers as he continues to stare at you.

“It’s not an easy thing to do, y’know.” 

Bucky tilts his head, confused. 

“Loving yourself, I mean,” you clarify. “Everyday you see people in TV and movies and magazines telling us how we should look. What’s the best look. And it’s hard to deal with because it affects us so much. Some a lot more than others. It’s incredibly painful to starve yourself because you’re not the size you want to be. We willingly use dangerous methods to change the way we look. There’s always something pushing you to be better, whether you like it or not. So when I look around me, that’s all I see. It’s those same people in the Hollywood business that I see here. And I’m completely envious. So it’s not an easy thing for me to love myself when I don’t look the same.”

Bucky sighs and holds onto his wrist as he listens to you speak. He knows all too well what a few words can do to a woman’s mind. He even knows a few that have suffered at the hands of those words. And now he knows another. You. He’s never fully faced this problem before, because he’s pretty confident in himself. And he hasn’t spoken to any of the girls affected by it. He has the chance to help you now, and he knows exactly what to say.

“Y’know, you should embrace your differences and the qualities about you that you think are weird,” he says. “Because eventually, they’re going to be the only things separating you from everyone else. And you should be proud of that. Your weight doesn’t matter, quite frankly. It’s you yourself that is important. And you must decide if you want to live your own life, or have someone else dictate it. The latter doesn’t seem like the right choice. Am I wrong?”

You look up at him with slight adoration. No one, in your whole life, has said something so meaningful and genuine to you before. It sounds like he got it straight out of a cheesy rom-com, but it’s not from any movie you’ve seen. It sounds like his own words. You smile widely at him and bite your bottom lip.

“You see?” he says after a moment of silence.

“See what?” you ask.

“You’re not yelling at me or hitting me. You’re believing my truth.”

“Whatever,” you scoff, looking away to smile at yourself.

“Don’t deny it,” he smiles, lightly shoving you. “You’re believing it.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are.”

“No.”

“Yup.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You could play this game forever, and quite frankly, you’d endure it with him. Hearing his laugh is music to your ears, and his smile is infectious. You finally look at him again, and by god, his face is beautiful.

“You know what else?”

“What?”

“You’re also fun-loving and it’s so nice to hear you laugh.”

“Shut up.”

You tighten your ponytail and give him a side-glance. You never really knew how incredibly nice he was. You don’t exactly see him a lot outside of school, and during school, you don’t hang out with him. Nat and Wanda do a perfectly good job at keeping you company. You usually see him with Steve, but from time to time the both of them join up with their other friends. A goofy looking bunch, but they seem like they have fun, which is what is important. You wish you knew Bucky better; but since your luck with boys is nearly in the negatives, it would be a tough feat to speak with him. And now that you’re doing it, you’re wondering why you didn’t do it sooner.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He looks at you in surprise before giving you a giant smile. He pats your knee.

“You deserve to hear the truth,” he responds. “The  _real_  truth. And if any of them, or anyone else for that matter, says any more lies about you, come to me and I’ll set them straight.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

He stands up and holds out his hand. You take it, letting him pull you up and leading you back inside. You clear your throat when you’re about to step through the doors.

“How you feeling?” Bucky asks.

“Embarrassed,” you reply truthfully. “But uh… a little bit better.”

“That’s great,” he smiles.

“Yeah, um… T-Thanks again, Bucky. I, uh. Um. Yeah.”

You yank open the gym door and immediately go to your wounded friend.

“There you are!” Wanda says. “What the hell happened? Ms. Regan said you weren’t feeling good? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I, um.” You look behind you through the glass on the gym doors. Bucky smiles at you and waves before going back upstairs. “I think I’m gonna be okay.“


End file.
